What Witches Want
by Katherina Black
Summary: This is a review I got:(corneliusfudge, Signed Review )"I thought that this would be pure and utter crap, owing to the title. It is, however, the best piece of fan fiction I have read for years. Seriously." (I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey s
1. Default Chapter

Ron Weasley sat in the library,

**What Witches Want - Part 01 - by Katherina Black**

Ron was doing something he didn't usually do; he was pondering. Being very much a hot tempered, spur-of-the-moment person, Ron didn't usually risk getting too deep in thoughts - after all, he'd seen the effect that could have on people. 

But today, Ron sat in the library, ignoring his divination homework and instead working his way through a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans in a despondent manner. And he was going over yet another of his and Hermione's arguments in his head. He just didn't _get_ girls and the whole set of complex unwritten rules which seemed to come with them. Take yesterday, for example. He and Hermione, who was usually a sensible person, had just been talking normally. Then he'd said something - Ron could hardly even remember what now - and Hermione had started going into one of her off-the-wall utterly irrelevant speeches. 

Wish I had some insight into the female brain, Ron thought, irritated, to himself. His bad mood was not improved by the fact that he'd just popped a disgusting Brick flavoured bean into his mouth in his lapse of concentration. Ron gagged and hurridly reached for another bean to take the gritty flavour of cement and granite from his tongue.

The bean he'd picked was silver - which was strange, as Ron had never come across a silver bean before. What could be? Metal? Then, looking more closely at it, Ron realised that it was a blend of different colours, making it appear silvery in the light.

Ron weighed up his options. Well, anything had to be better than having part of a wall in his mouth, he decided as he hurridly put the silver bean in his mouth...

*

"Ron...Ron! Wake up!" Somebody was shaking him awake. Ron half opened his eyes. Ginny was shaking him awake.

"You must have fallen asleep," Ginny said, as Ron groggily lifted up his heavy head.

"Wha-? Oh. Right," Ron said confusedly, catching sight of his divination text book and remembering where he was. He opened up the book and attempted to read it, though his head felt like he'd had too much of the strong version of butterbeer. Ron was just trying to work out the bit about the importance of the Sun and other planets in certain houses, when he heard Ginny's voice.

"Harry's probably at Quidditch Practice. I wonder if...no. He probably wouldn't even notice me, let alone sweep me up in a loving embrace..."

Ron spluttered. "Ginny, please! I am not one of your girl-friends!" he said, a look of disgust beginning to form on his freckled face. 

"I didn't say you were," said Ginny, looking up from her homework with a puzzled face.

"No, but I'm Harry's best friend. I'm not exactly the best person to confide in about your crush on him," Ron protested. He'd thought that Ginny was over this nonsense about Harry - but it was just another example to prove how strange females were.

"What?" said Ginny, but she turned as red as the philosopher's stone.

"All I'm saying is, keep your girly comments about Harry to yourself," said Ron, giving up all hope on his divination homework.

"Ron, I haven't said a word to you about Harry or anybody else..." Ginny said, now extremely puzzled, and extremely red. "You must have imagined it."

Ron opened his mouth to argue, but Ginny had already picked up her quill and started writing again. He instead satisfied himself with muttering to himself something about girls being mad. He started reading again, but the library hadn't been silent for two seconds before he clearly heard his sister again.

"How on earth did he know what I was thinking? Oh well...Poor Colin, I can't believe he asked me out..."

"Colin Creevey asked you out?!" said Ron, incredulously. Ginny's face was a map of astonishment.

"How did you know that?" she said, making frantic shushing gestures at her brother, and glancing around her. "Did Colin tell you?"

"No," said Ron, wondering if his sister was going mad. "You just did. Just now." 

Ginny stared at her brother. Then something extremely odd happened: Ron very clearly heard Ginny's voice saying, _"_What is he talking about? If Colin's been spreading this, I'll curse him." but he was equally certain that Ginny hadn't even _opened _her mouth.

Ron blinked, then shook his head, vigurously. "Are you okay?" Ginny asked (this time by means of her mouth)

"Fine, I'm fine," said Ron, slightly hoarsely, slamming his text book shut.

"For Merlin's sake, Ron, it's not that hard," Ron realised fo the first time that Parvati Patil was sitting at the other end of the long table. He also noticed (distatsefully) that she was whizzing through her divination homework.

Then, it happened again!

"Oops, almost time to meet Padma..."Ron heard Parvati say, and he saw Parvati check her watch, then begin to pack away her things - but Parvati _hadn't even been talking_.

"Er - are you going to meet your sister, Parvati?" Ron blurted out as Parvati stood up to leave.

"Yeah, how did you know?" asked Parvati.

"Er - didn't you just say so?"

"No, I didn't say anything," said Parvati, leaving with a curious expression.

"Are you sure you're okay?" said Ginny, looking at her brother with a worried expression. He kept blinking, and shaking his head. "How come you fell asleep anyway?"

Ron thought about it...how had he fallen asleep? Then, very slowly, the memory came back. He'd eaten a bean. A silver, glowing bean. And it had transported him to another realm, where things were very strange..? No. Ron racked his brains...what else? He'd been sitting there, wishing he had...

Ron stopped. _Wishing that he had some insight into the female brain. _

Just then a group of girls entered the library. For Ron, it was like being caught in a hailstorm of owls. At least ten different loud, female voices entered his head.

"I hate the smell of the library..."

"I hope he doesn't find out..."

"I can't believe she just..."

"...really..."

"...can it?"

"...so dusty in here..."

Ron, eyes as big as head lamps, looked quickly from Madame Pince, the librarian, to the gaggle of girls. Not one of them was talking, yet he still had a barrage of voices in his head. Madame Pince hadn't kicked them out yet, which meant she couldn't hear them (Madam Pince was an extremely short tempered lady who didn't hold with noise). Ginny seemed oblivious, too.

"Ginny," Ron hissed. "Can you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Ginny said. Then she watched as her brother stood up and fled.

*

Ron had considered going to the hospital wing, but he'd put his head round the door, heard Madame Pomfrey look up and say (or think) "I thought it'd only be a matter of time before a Weasley got sent in again," without opening her mouth once, and slammed the door behind him.

Okay. Okay. Ron leant again the hospital wing door, breathing deeply. He was very slowly going mad, it seemed. Nothing to worry about. But meanwhile, he'd like to know JUST WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME WAS GOING ON!?

Ron decided there was really only one person he could go to. He sprinted down the steps.

*

"And what do you think has happened?" Dumbledore asked in his usual direct manner, once Ron, feeling very stupid, had finished his explanation.

"I think...well, I think, sir, that...I can hear what girls are thinking," said Ron, feeling now extremely stupid.

"I see," said Dumbledore, more serious now, though Ron saw that his mouth was twitching slightly. "How interesting," he added, half to himself. Then he turned back to Ron, who was now fidgeting slightly in his chair.

"Well, Mr. Weasley - I only have a very vague theory of what may have happened to you. Magic is very complex, you see, far more so than we can recognise. Perhaps sometimes powers come to you when you need them. It can't be explained, but has been this way for centuries, I believe.

"There are, however, two things of which I _am_ certain: the first, is that this power should only stay with you for seven days. The second, is that if you wish to be rid of it before then, you must prove that you don't need this power."

Ron digested all of this. "So, I have to prove that I don't have to read witches' thoughts?" he said.

"Either that or you could wait out the seven days," Dumbledore said. "I must say, you are in possession of an extremely useful, if slightly strange power," he added with a twinkle. "Much better than the power one of my own friends got when he found himself in a similar situation."

*

"Harry! Harry!" Ron leant over his friend, who was fast asleep after an exhausting Quidditch practice. "I need to tell you something."

Harry opened one eye and rolled over, burying his face in the downy pillows. "Ron, this had better be good..." came the muffled moan.

"Harry - I think I've got a mind reading power!"

"Professor Trelawny has really got to you, hasn't she?" said Harry, amusedly from the depths of the pillows.

"No, seriously! Listen, I was in the library earlier, yeah, and I was sitting there thinking about how me and Hermione are always arguing, and I was wishing that I knew what girls were thinking, or something, and it _came true_!"

Harry sat up. For a moment, Ron wasn't sure if he was going to laugh or simply look astounded. He went for a mixture of the two.

"You're saying that you can read girl's thoughts?" Harry said, a repressed smile breaking out.

"I know it sounds barking," Ron said, sitting down on his own bed. "But I woke up, and I swear I could hear what they were thinking! And then I went to see Dumbledore, and he -"

"He what?" Harry said, the laughter dying at this.

"Well, actually what he said was, that he needed more time to work this one out and I either have to cope with hearing witches' thoughts for a week, or prove I don't need to. I suppose that's him telling me I've got to work this one out by myself."

Harry stared at Ron, who was by now breathless, but frowning in concentration. Then Harry flopped backwards onto the bed and laughed his head off.

"Sorry, sorry," Harry apologised once he'd stopped. "Er, okay, so what are you going to do?"

"I haven't got a clue," Ron said.

*

It was all very well to see the joke in this bizarre situation, but by the end of the evening Ron was being driven mad. It was like having a constant, raging headache. Suddenly, there were girls everywhere he went. And all their thoughts were being shouted to him whether he liked it or not.

"I don't want to KNOW about your lovelife!" He at last yelled at a shocked Ravenclaw girl who'd been standing minding her own business.

Ron tried to explain this to Harry, but his friend who was not burdened with acting as a satellite for female thoughts, shrugged.

"You've got a gift," Harry said sleepily. They were talking in the darkness of the dormitory.

"A gift? a gift? Being able to ballet dance is a gift. Being as brainy as Hermione is a gift. This is not a frigging gift!"

"Ron, you can read minds. That's got to be an advantage." Ron was about to snap back another cynical answer, when he thought about it. How on earth could this be an advantage? He was still thinking when everybody else in their dormitory had long been asleep.

*

"It's okay, everybody; don't bother helping, after all I'm only Eloise Midgen..."

Ron looked down and saw Eloise Midgen, looking more than a little downcast, hastily trying to gather the books she'd dropped as people hurried to their morning classes. Ron bent over and picked up the last of her books, then handed them to her.

"Oh," said Eloise Midgen, looking distinctly suprised. "Thanks, er..."

"Ron," Ron said quickly.

"Of course. The one who has a problem with my nose being a millimeter off center, like every other typical boy/arsehole in this school."

"Who told you that?" Ron said, suprised and embarrassed.

"Told me what?" Eloise said.

"Nothing," Ron said, running up to join Harry.

And the worst thing was, as Ron was fast discovering, he didn't exactly like all of what he heard. In fact, Ron didn't know what was worse, hearing himself described as an arsehole three times, or hearing that a Second year he'd passed earlier on thought he was "cute".

*

"Hey, Herms, how come you skipped breakfast?"

"Library," Hermione said simply. Ron started to gawp but then he remembered something else.

Oh no. Ron had forgotten that, due to his new powers, he would now be party to one of his best friend's thoughts. He just couldn't read Hermione's thoughts and look innocent. He didn't want to. 

Ron gave Harry an agonized look accompanied with convincing gestures as Hermione went to talk to Professor Flitwick.

"It's okay, we just won't tell her," Harry whispered. "I mean, you know Hermione, she'll want to keep you in isolation so that you can't infringe on peoples' privacy." Ron moaned and smacked his forehead but Hermione had already sat herself down next to him.

"Hi!" she said brightly. What she thought was: "Hmm, Ron looks very pale, he's probably been eating too many sweets" (It was all Ron could do to stop himself shouting, "I have not!")

"Are you okay, Ron?" Hermione said casually. "You look pale."

"Fine, I'm fine," Ron muttered. "Slightly restless night, that's all."

"I'll say," Harry murmured with a grin, before Ron elbowed him.

"Er, Harry, wouldn't it be easier if you worked over here, next to Hermione?" Ron hinted.

"Oh great, they've got some kind of boy thing going on and they don't want me to know," Hermione thought. Ron jumped. "I wish that I didn't have to feel like such a gooseberry half the time I'm with them. And what's worse is, they don't even seem to notice...oh well. It was inevitable, I suppose...boys will be boys and all that..."

"Aa-shoo!" Hermione's train of thoughts was interuptted when she sneezed. Then she sneezed again. And again. It seemed that she couldn't go five minutes without sneezing.

"Oh no," Hermione groaned. "I'm allergic to something in here," she said, casting her eyes around, looking for the culprit.

"Miss Granger, you have permission to go to the hospital wing," Professor Flitwick squeaked.

"Oh no! I'll miss one of my most important lessons. Aargghh! Why now?!"

Ron could hardly supress a smile as he heard this particularly Hermione-ish thought.

"I'll bring you your homework, don't worry, Hermione," Ron said as Hermione grabbed up her things. Hermione looked (and was) grateful as she sneezed them goodbye.

*

"So, great mind reader," said Harry with a grin as they started off to their next lesson. "Have you discovered the secret of what witches want yet?"

Ron shook his head, irritated. "I've heard myself described as an asshole four times already," he said in a low voice. Harry cracked up.

"And you don't want to know what girls are thinking about you, Harry," Ron added, promply shutting up his best friend ("What? What have they been thinking about me?")

But Ron wouldn't say any more. He instead concentrated on wondering if earplugs woud work.

A/N All thoughts should be highlighted in orange, but it's not coming out on ff.net - so I've underlined them instead...I'm sure you noticed, you clever clogs. All other chapters should be orange.


	2. two

A/N Hi, part two is finished. Remember, all thoughts are in orange...Hmmm, I dunno about this - review, please, because I'm not sure how good it is. Dervish suggested I change the title - what do you think? 

**What Witches Want - Part 02 - by Katherina Black**

With the aid of Harry, Ron managed to survive the day. By the end of it, though, his brain seemed have developed a habit of naturally blocking all incoming thoughts. And of course, there had been that undeniably sticky moment in Divination when Ron had accidently read Professor Trelawney's thoughts and started laughing in the middle of the lesson (Ron obviously couldn't explain that it had been because he found his teacher's thoughts - "Focus, focus. You do not need a glass of wine, you do not need a glass of wine. Note to self: re-read self help book."- a hoot, so it had landed him a detention).

"Mmm, chocolate...no, I really shouldn't...remember the diet, remember the diet..." Ron looked up from his lunch, suprised, to match this train of thoughts to Parvati Patil. Self assured Parvati on a diet? Ron pondered this for a moment.

"Here, Parvati, have some chocolate," Ron said, shoving a fistful into her hand (slightly tentatively, for he had more than an inkling that he might get the "asshole" treatment again). Parvati looked from Ron to the chocolate.

"Thanks, Ron, but -"

"Parvati, if you're worrying about a diet, or whatever, don't. You don't need to lose weight, and you know the stick insect look isn't really that attractive."

"Is Ron Weasley reading my mind or something? Never thought he'd be the one to give me dieting advice. Actually, I always thought he was a bit of an -"

"Oh, Okay, then," Parvati said. "Thanks, Ron." And Ron noted with satisfaction that she looked a lot happier. He settled down to finish his lunch, unconsciously continuing to pick up the thoughts of practically the entire female side of Gryffindor.

Sighing, Ron stood up, making his way passed a stressed out looking seventh year, a blond second year writing her Transfiguration essay, and as he passed the Hufflepuff table, Eloise Midgen, who was hunched up by herself.

"Oh shit, shit...I'm two days late...shit. I'm never late!"

"In order for a cross species transfiguration to occur, you must first..."

"Ihatehimihatehimihatehimihatehim...aw, who am I kidding?!"

Wondering vaguely, slightly amused, who might be the unfortunate person, Ron exited the dinner hall. He turned to ask Hermione about some homework, only to remember she wasn't there.

Ron sat down at the little table by the fire to make a start on his homework. He hardly even registered the fact that Lavender Brown was sitting there too, until he heard her screaming, frustrated thoughts that is. And then he half wished he hadn't.

" 'Dearest: I just don't know how to tell you this. Betsey's condition has worstened, and they think it might be serious. God, I'm so sorry we've had to tell you this in a letter. I'll send more news as soon as I can; until then we'll just have to leave it up to the higher powers. I don't know what to do. Dad and I miss you. Love from mum.' "

Ron looked up quickly. Lavender Brown was tossing aside a letter, and she was, not crying, but near to it. Ron didn't know what to do or say. Ron watched and waited. He saw Lavender glance at the letter once more then look even more tearful, before standing up and rushing up to the Girl's dormitories.

*

"Is that Ron? Oh, I'm so glad he came to see me...as a friend, a _friend_. Hermione. Stay cool."

"Hey, Herms, how're you feeling?" Ron, not understanding but feeling slightly flattered, plonked Hermione's Charms work onto her bedside table and plonked himself onto the chair beside her bed. Hermione, it transpired, was feeling grouchy.

"I'm fine! But they want to keep me in here for longer. Can you imagine? It's Arithmancy next, I bet the class are doing something really important!"

"And then I'll probably get questions on my test wrong and then who knows what everyone'll think!" Hermione thought, grouchily. Ron laughed.

"Hermione, I swear if you worry much more you'll go gray," he chuckled, earning himself a glare from the patient. "Okay, Hermione; I will go to Professor Vector myself and ask him what you missed and I'll get your homework and bring it here - just for you. Happy?"

"Mmm, it's not like Ron to offer to do stuff like this. What's up?" Ron almost yelled "Hey!" when he heard this, then remembered and quickly shut his mouth.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked. "It's not like you to -"

" - to be nice to you?" Ron said, feeling an itsy bit annoyed.

"No, I was going to say, to offer with homework and stuff," Hermione finished. Ron was about to retort, but then realised she was right. He usually couldn't be naffed with extra homework, and he usually told Hermione so, too.

"Well," was all he could think of to say.

"Harry is at Quidditch practice, I presume," said Hermione, starting a fresh subject.

"Wild centaurs couldn't keep him away," Ron agreed. "Especially as he's up against a certain pretty Ravenclaw girl next match."

"Oh dear," Ron heard Hermione think.

Hermione shook her head. "Harry's going to get hurt, Ron," she said.

"I know, but isn't love supposed to be painful a lot of the time?" Ron said, wondering why he suddenly felt - what was it? - bothered.

"I suppose so," Hermione said. "God, do I know a lot about that," she added in her head.

Ron, startled, looked up, immediately wanting to probe a little into this. Had something happened with Viktor Krum? Had he hurt Hermione's feelings? Because if he had...Ron suddenly felt fierce. So it was fortunate for all parties concerned, perhaps, that Madame Pomfrey interuptted at that moment ("You've had nearly ten minutes! Get out!") before he could say anything. 

It was only once he'd left that Ron realised something. Out of all the girls whose thoughts he'd read, Hermione was the only one who'd said pretty much what she thought anyway. It was probably down to familiarity, Ron thought, afterall Hermione knew him best. Or maybe she was just a more straightforward person. Ron was sure that Hermione was unique, anyway. 

*

All in all, it was not looking like a promising end to the day. Ron had to find Professor Vector, collect Hermione's work, then spend the best part of the evening in Trelawney's stuffy classroom.

"Ah, there you are, dear. Come in. The stars did in fact inform me that you would be late," Professor Trelawney said, when Ron's head surfaced through the trapdoor of the almost empty classroom. She gestured him to sit down, saying, "I suspect that your impunctuality was due to falling in the lake?" Professor Trelawney said. "I consulted my crystal ball."

Ron, not wanting to get into more trouble, gave a sort of neutral grunt and sat opposite Lavender at a round table. He noticed that Lavender was not her usual confident self; she seemed tired and smaller somehow. Ron thought he could guess why.

"Now, dears - the fates call me away, so I trust you to get on with your work and you may go in an hour," said Professor Trelawny, floating away (Ron hadn't thought it was possible for anybody to float down a stepladder; obviously Professor Trelawney had been practicing). Ron could have sworn hat he heard "Now, where's that damn book?" as she left.

Ron opened his books, but could not concentrate. The girl, however, made absolutely no move to talk to Ron - well, she wouldn't would she? It wasn't like they were even good friends. Ron Weasley, are you going soft? Ron asked himself irritated. Honestly. It wasn't even as if it was any of his business. He and Lavender had hardly ever exchanged more than four meaningful sentences with each other.

"Is that your little sister, Lavender?" Ron said, spying a photo of a little girl stuck in the pages of Lavender's book. "She looks sweet." For the first time, Lavender smiled.

"Yeah, that's Betsey. She is the sweetest little thing in the world. Of course she -" Lavender choked back the last part of the sentence hurridly. "She's going to die."

"What?" Ron said, gently. But Lavender shook her head, muttering "Nothing."

"I just wish I had someone to talk to. I feel like I'm going to explode and no one will even notice."

"Lavender, I know we're not, like, the best of friends, but they say it always helps to talk. You know, before you explode. And if it's family stuff; well, I know a lot about families." Ron, who had six siblings, said.

Lavender threw aside her book. "They think it's serious," she said, quietly.

*

"Hermione was right about you," Lavender was saying as the two packed up three quarters of an hour later.

"Right?" Ron said blankly.

"Yeah, well she's always sticking up for you; saying how you're more courageous and kind than people give you credit for. She's right. Thanks."

"And to think that I always thought you were a complete asshole"

Ron went red. "Well, I er -" he gabbled. "I mean, anytime."

He bade Lavender goodnight and went to deliver Hermione's arithmancy work. Lavender's parting thought was:

"And I bet that he's off to visit Hermione. It is just so obvious with those two..."

Huh? Ron thought.

Hermione was already asleep as Ron quietly placed the work on the table beside her. Her face was half covered with her bushy brown hair, features highlighted in the low light, breathing steady and rhythmical; she looked very peaceful. Ron watched her for half a minute, feeling more peaceful himself than he had all day. Then, he didn't know what came over him, but suddenly Ron found himself bending over Hermione and kissing her gently on the cheek.

Ron stood up abruptly. What had he just done?! He left quickly, deciding that hearing girls' thoughts had been getting to him more than he knew.


	3. three

A/N Hi, everyone! Part 03 is mainly a sort of middly bit; if you liked the first two parts, it'll be okay. Maybe a bit boring otherwise. I'll try to get Part 04 soon. Meanwhile, in answer to a reviewer (I like all my reviewers!); the reason everyone thinks so poorly of Ron is...well, think about it. Parvati, Lavender, all that lot, room with Hermione. THEY saw how upset she was after the Yule Ball. THEY see Ron mucking around in Divination. WE know Ron's really a sweetie. Another (very nice!) reviewer said what they liked about this series was how I explored other characters, too (pause as Kat Black takes a moment to gloat), so to wind up, it's more of the same stuff...

Remember: all text in orange is thoughts.

**What Witches Want - Part 03 - by Katherina Black **(hee hee - I love writing this bit out)

When Hermione came back from the hospital wing the next morning, she found Ron and Harry bent over laughing, hardly able to speak to her. "Things are normal, then,"

"Hi," Hermione said. The two boys greeted her, then went back to laughing, before turning back to their work. "Well, they were obviously just pining away without me..."

Ron looked up. "By, the way, Hermione, we missed you."

"Hmm, Plant Transfiguration, that looks interes..._what_?!"

"What? Oh, er, thanks." Ron smirked to himself as he saw the reaction he'd caused with his unexpected comment. "What were you laughing at anyway?" Hermione added, unpacking her things.

"Oh, right...just that Dean and Seamus have to do ballroom dancing for Muggle Studies," Harry said, while he and Ron smirked, envisioning their room mates twirling around in tailcoats. 

"Oh, that's right. Well, I wouldn't laugh too hard, boys; you might be asked."

Ron and Harry's jaws dropped in unmistakeable horror.

"Oh don't worry, _I'm _not going to ask you. I know what you'd say about that! But, you see, there are a lot more girls than boys in the Muggle Studies class, so just because you don't do Muggle Studies it doesn't necessarily mean you won't be asked..." A look of relief passed over Ron's face.

"No way. If it's anybody, it'll be Harry," he said, causing his best friend to groan. "So, er, anyway, Hermione, who did you pair up with?"

"Ah ha, I wondering how long it'd be before that question popped up..." Ron heard Hermione think, and shrugged to himself - why shouldn't he have asked? "Seamus," Hermione told them.

"Seamus?!" Ron spluttered, accidently turning his cactus into a caterpillar.

Hermione nodded. "Unless you'd rather I asked you, Ron," Hermione said. She thought: "Yeah, like that would happen."

"Exactly," Ron said.

"Hmm? Exactly what, Ron?" Hermione said, transfiguring her cactus perfectly into a pot plant, first try ("Yes!!").

"What? Oh, never mind," Ron mumbled, ducking under his chair to pick up the caterpillar which had somehow got onto the floor.

*

In the past, Ron was used to it always being Harry that people, especially girls, stared at and smiled at. After all, this was Harry Potter, wizard who had defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named four times and had pretty much won the Triwizard contest, as well as being Gryffindor Seeker. But now, Ron was startled to find that his own popularity, for some reason, was increasing - especially amongst the girls in his year.

"Okay, Ron, please tell me what is going on," Hermione said, sitting down next to Ron at lunchtime. She had just been talking to Lavender and Parvati, and had a shrewd expression on her face. Ron, who was eating lunch while trying to listen to the thoughts of the (possibly pregnant) seventh year while she talked with her boyfriend, fought the urge to tell Hermione to quieten down because she was drowning them out. Instead he sighed and looked up.

"What are you talking about, Hermione?" he said.

"Oh, only about the fact that practically all the Gryffindor girls in our year are suddenly gushing about you," Hermione said, in her I-want-some-answers tone, which neither Ron or Harry and ever even tried to defy. "In other words, what have you two been up to?" she thought, proving Ron right about her tone.

"They're...they're what?" Ron said.

"Well, this morning practically all Parvati and Lavender have been talking about is how Ron Weasley is such a nice person, so understanding and different from most of the fifth year boys..." "And that I'm lucky to have you, though no way am I going to tell you that," she added in her head. "...And since Paravti and Lavender never seemed so keen on you before, I want to know what's been going on," Hermione finished, out loud.

"Hermione, do I detect some jealousy here?" Ron teased, secretly pleased about what had been said (and thought). Hermione flushed. "Okay, Hermione, just cool it. Don't get caught up on this whole issue again," Ron heard her think, and had to stop himself from laughing, as Hermione's next comment came from behind clenched teeth.

"No, you don't."

"Hey, I've noticed it, too, you know," Harry said, deciding at that moment to stop staring at Cho nonchalantly and join in the conversation suddenly. "Girls just keep smiling at you."

Ron shrugged. "I dunno. Is it my fault if people like me?" Hermione didn't look satisfied with this at all, and her thoughts mirrored the look on her face, but Ron hurridly suggested she help him with some homework. The three of them stood up, but they hadn't crossed the entrance hall before Eloise Midgen, looking very nervous and unsure, appeared before them.

"Er, Harry - ?" Eloise, looking at her toes, mumbled. 

"He's going to say no. I just know he's going to say no," Ron heard her think, as she looked up and stared, terrified, at Harry. Eloise seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that Ron and Hermione were just standing there.

"Yes?" Harry said.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod...I can't do this. But if I don't I'll never know. Oh, Great Merlin. Help."

"Er - you know I do Muggle Studies, and we have to learn ballroom dancing...well, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind being my partner - I mean, you don't have to, it's just -"

" - it's just I really really like you and I can't take any more rejection, so please can you at least let me down gently...shut up, shut up, Eloise."

Well, now I know who the person she loves/hates is, Ron thought to himself. But even Ron couldn't miss the desparation in Eloise's voice - or at least in her thoughts. He caught Hermione shooting him a warning look as well, and also caught her thinking "If Ron laughs now, I will kill him." Like even I could be that insensitive, Ron thought to himself, wondering if Hermione thought he went round with a collander over his head.

Meanwhile, Harry's face could hardly mask his horror. Then, with a trace of relief detected - 

"Oh, er - I've got quidditch practice everyday so I probably won't be able to, sorry. Thanks for asking me, though." 

"Right, that's fine. Er - sorry for...taking your time up," Eloise said.

"Well, I suppose that was pretty gentle - I mean, his relief wasn't that obvious. His excuse might even be true. Yeah, right. He just can't face dancing, let alone with me, Eloise Midgen, the-off-center-nose freak. Is this how it's going to be for the rest of my life? Why doesn't anybody like me? WHY??? Oh, I remember, because I'm not a perfect Fleur Delacour, that's _why_..."

After unsuspectingly letting Ron into all of this, Eloise turned to go.

"Eloise, wait!" Ron said, hardly knowing what had posessed him. "If you need a dancing partner, I could do it."

"You did not just hear that." "_What_? Really?"

"Yep - I mean, I'm not really that good, but I don't mind having a go..."

Great Wizards, what am I saying? Ron thought to himself. He could see Harry and Hermione were thinking the same thing, while Eloise just stood there, mouth open, rocking on her heels, looking very much like she'd been hit with the body-binding charm.

"Thank you so much," Eloise finally managed, before turning and walking away.

Once she was gone, Hermione broke into a beam. "Ron, that was so _nice_ of you," she said, half hugging him, while Harry continued to gawp.

"Yeah, well - she just looked so unhappy. Just don't bug me about it." Ron said, grumpily. And he inwardly groaned as he thought of what he had got himself into.

*

"Eloise Midgen??" Malfoy said delightedly. They were lined up in the corridor before Potions, a the time conveniently used by Malfoy before each lesson to insult the Gryffindors. "Obviously the Weasleys have found new lows," he sneered. 

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry said, loudly.

"And to think that I thought you would stop at Mudbloods," Malfoy added, with a nasty look at Hermione, who was trying to ignore him.

"Yes, Malfoy, just go ahead and continue to humiliate me, after all, I don't have feelings...ignore him, ignore him, ignore him, Hermione...oh I would so love to slap his stupid face again..."

Ron looked from Hermione to Malfoy. "That's it, Malfoy. Say one more word about her and..."

"And what?" Malfoy said, quietly. "You'll do what to me, Weasley?" He turned to Hermione. "Tell me, Granger, how does it feel to be second place to a Hufflepuff brat? Sure you're not going to cry about it?" Hermione gave him a long, hard stare.

"Well, you would know about brats, wouldn't you, Malfoy?" she said, quietly, looking him straight in the eye.

"Leave her alone, Malfoy," Ron repeated, through gritted teeth.

"Ah, well I wouldn't want to disobey one of the great Weasleys, now, would I?" Malfoy drawled. "Not when you're one of the most disgraced, empty-handed wizarding families..."

A funny thing had happened. Usually, when fights like these occured, everybody stopped to listen. But today, some of the Slytherins were just continuing to chat unconcernedly. 

"Oh, lay off him, Malfoy," a slight, determined looking Slytherin girl muttered over her shoulder before turning back to her conversation. Nearly all the Gryffindors and Malfoy jumped almost out of their skins. A Slytherin, telling Malfoy to lay off a Gryffindor?

Malfoy, who had been twirling his wand idoly with his fingers, let off sparks in his suprise and furiousness. Not a very nice combination. The sparks, though not specifically aimed at Ron, caught him in the arm. When the smoke had cleared, Ron was revealed to be crouched over, moaning in a lot of pain.

"Weasley, get yourself down to the hospital wing and stop moaning like a muggle girl," Snape had appeared, and directed this speech to Ron while ushering the class inside, causing the Gryffindors to speak up indignantly.

"Malfoy hit him, sir -"

" - Ron wasn't even armed - Malfoy was insulting him again - "

" - He didn't even provoke Malfoy, sir," Harry said, angrily. Most of the Gryffindor girls were addressing Ron with "Are you okay?" with genuine looks of worry on their faces. Dean took one look at Ron's arm and moaned himself ("Great Merlin, that's got to hurt!")

Snape, however, was not in the mood for hearing out the story (is he ever?) "Ten points from Gryffindor for not shutting up this instant, and an extra five for not being yet out of my sight, Weasley," he barked. "Weasley, go...Granger, go with him...anything to get you out of earshot for a while..."

"Greasy...slimy...git..." Ron hissed, too much in pain to say more as he half staggered to the wing escorted by Hermione.

"I'll take a look at it, give me a moment," Madam Pomfrey said once they'd made it to the wing and Hermione had explained to her (Ron was still moaning quietly). Madam Pomfrey bustled off to get her eye glass; leaving Ron and Hermione to wait.

Suddenly, looking extremely distraught, a Gryffindor Seventh year girl entered the hospital wing. Ron recognised her as the one who'd been telling her boyfriend that she was "late" the other day at breakfast. At once a torrent of loud, desparate thoughts filled his head.

"...And if I have a baby that means missing the start of Auror University. That's if Mum and Dad don't force me to become a catalogue housewife...Oh, Merlin, Mum and Dad...They are going to hit the roof...It's okay, calm down - you might not be. On the other hand...oh thank god, there's Madam Pomfrey."

"Yes, what is it, Megan?" Madame Pomfrey had reappeared with her spectacles and was addressing the seventh year girl.

"Well, I er - I have a problem..." "I can't tell her, not in front of everybody!"

"Is it serious?"

"Well, I er..." "Oh, shit shit _shit_! Is there anything more serious than this??!!"

"It's okay, you go first," Ron, from his half bent position, broke in.

"Are you sure?" Madam Pomfrey looked doubtfully at the very-much-in-pain Ron. "It does look extremely painful."

"Ron?" Hermione said, gently.

"Yeah, go ahead. I'll survive for another few minutes," Ron muttered.

"Oh, thank you!" Megan said to Ron, before dragging Madam Pomfrey to a quiet corner.

"Okay, that was...odd. Not that it's unlike Ron to be kind and sweet...sometimes...but suddenly he's being VERY kind and sweet...I mean, _obviously_ kind and sweet...and gentle, and caring...stop it! Hermione, you simply under estimate him sometimes. It doesn't mean you...you...no don't even think it. Now stop being so silly..."

Ron, even though his arm was still killing him, was very curious to know as to what Hermione didn't want to think about...about him. ???

*

"Well, thanks for waiting with me," Ron said, as they traipsed back to lessons, Ron's arm newly repaired.

"That's okay," Hermione said. Distractedly, though. Ron opened an ear.

"Oh what the heck..." Hermione suddenly leaned over and kissed Ron on the cheek. Ron, suprised, coloured up.

"What was that for?" he said, throatily, shocked. This was a first.

"Ron, I know we fight a lot, but I just wanted to say that, over the past couple of days, I felt really proud of you. I mean, the way you let that girl go before you just now, and what you did for Eloise..." Hermione was smiling slightly at him, and had taken his good arm in hers.

"Oh, right," Ron said. "Er, well, it's nothing. I'm honored to have Hermione Granger praising me, though." Ron noticed Hermione, out of the side of her eye, was looking at him.

"Hmm, slightly red, seems okay, a bit suprised. Well I would be, too, of course. I don't think he's guessed, though, thank god...wait, I've got to stop this. I've suddenly become Parvati! What's happening to me?"

Hermione went off for Transfiguration, and left Ron deep in thought as he made his way to Divination.

A/N I just read this again, and...I'm sorry! This is probably one of the most long and tedious chapters...or maybe I'm just getting paranoid. Ah, well anyway, hopefully next chapter will be better. So don't give up on me yet!


	4. four

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A/N - major stressing! I discovered that on a few chapters, the thoughts are refusing to come up in orange. Therefore, I've underlined the thoughts in this chapter. Sorry for inconvenience!

****

****

**What Witches Want - Part 04 - by Katherina Black**

"Ron..? Ron, what in Merlin's name are you doing?"

Harry watched as his best friend threw himself around the dormitory, violently bouncing off his bed and the walls as he acted and looked like a human rocket with his red hair and face. Finally, Ron fell onto his bed.

"Too many Every Flavour Beans?" Ron suggested dryly. Harry noted that at least five packets of Every Flavour Beans had been torn open and the beans tipped out all over the dormitory.

"Where have you been? I haven't seen you all morning," Harry said, sitting down carefully on his own bed and tentatively nibbling on a nearby bean.

"In here," Ron said shortly.

"Oh, what, bouncing off walls?" Harry said, looking at Ron who had his worst expression on his face, obviously in a rotten mood.

"I just couldn't take it any more. I can't even go and have breakfast, for heavens sake, without having to listen to all this...stuff!" Ron waved his long arms around to illustrate. "At least in here I can go mad in peace..." he added, muttering.

"And that explains why you've just been decorating the floors with Every Flavour beans," Harry said quietly, a sarcastic edge to his tone.

"I mean it, Harry. I'm going mad here. I've got to reverse this, whatever it is," Ron said, glaring at the scattered beans. "I thought, if one bean started it off, why couldn't one bean finish it," he said in a defeated manner.

"But you know that's not how it works. Ron. Dumbledore said you have to prove that you don't need this spell, or you have to wait it out."

"You sound like Hermione," Ron muttered, then for the first time, grinned. Then he sighed again. "Seriously, though, Hermione's the worst thing. I hate listening to her thoughts, and she'd kill me if she knew. It was so much easier when I forgot she was a girl."

"I suppose there's no chance in getting Hermione to help in all of this?" Harry reasoned. Ron looked like Harry had just proposed to curse him.

"What, before or after my funeral, d'you mean?" he said sacastically.

"You don't have to tell her everything," Harry said patiently. "Just tell you need help with...extra school research," he suggested. "She knows half the books in the library, if not all of them, off by heart. Then you could at least find out what all this is about..."

Ron was silent for a while, absent mindedly eating an Every Flavour bean as he thought. "She won't buy it. I'm beginning to think Hermione's got a mind reading power herself. Either that or she knows me, really, really well. No, you know what, Harry? Maybe I'll just tell her, full-stop. No more lies."

Harry shrugged, it's was his friend's descision, but it occured to him that Ron had never had a problem with lying to Hermione before.

Just then, Seamus, Dean and Neville came into the dormitory.

"What the..." the three of them stared at the beans scattered everywhere.

"Help yourselves to some Every Flavour Beans, won't you?" Ron said, ignoring their gapes as he slipped past them and out of the door.

"Ron...what are you doing here?" Ron looked up from the stack of books to see Hermione, looking slightly surprised, and slightly suspicious, standing before him. Her gaze flickered to the title of the heavy volume he'd been reading. 

"And what on earth is he doing reading 'Every Single Charm Ever Recorded in the History of Magic'?"

"I thought you made it a point never to do your homework, Ron," she added, settling down opposite him.

Ron shrugged, looking at the incredibly thick book ruefully, and a bit embarrassed. How was he going to explain himself out of this one? It was all very well to tell Harry he would tell Hermione everything, but now faced with the prospect of a perceptive, suspicious-looking Hermione, he was beginning to have doubts again. 

Ron had actually been spending the afternoon in the library, looking through stacks of books, hoping to find a clue, any clue, as to what might have made him start to hear thoughts. And what might end it. Even now, he was only an eighth of the way through 'Every Single Charm Ever Recorded in the History of Magic'.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione's eyes flicker towards him briefly. 

"Well, if he doesn't want to tell me what's going on, I'm not going to force him. I've had it with running around after Ron and Harry like I'm their mother, for heaven's sake. It's stupid. Maybe Ron really is just doing his homework. Now. Concentrate. "List the three ways to brew up an Eloquence potion." - That's easy..."

Hermione got out her quill and a piece of parchment. Ron couldn't resist. He shut "Every Single Spell Ever Recorded in the History of Magic" and followed suit. He knew that Potions homework was due in next week and he doubted very much that it would be good enough for Snape if he attempted it without Hermione's help. Even if she herself didn't happen to know she was helping him.

For the first time that day, the shadow of a grin flickered on Ron's mouth. Maybe this power could be useful after all. For the next few minutes he listened attentively to Hermione's thoughts, and noted it all down, re-wording slightly so as not to arouse suspicion.

"...add the root of Zeffleweed to the potion and simmer gently until the potion thins and becomes a pale violet colour. The potion should only be taken in small doses as it is particularly strong when brewed using this method. This way of making an Eloquence potion is the least commonly used as it sometimes has odd side effects, including lengthening nails and tongue slightly. The root of Zeffleweed is also extremely hard to find..."

Finally, Hermione finished her essay and threw aside her quill. A few minutes later, so did Ron, fervently hoping Hermione would never discover he had done this, as copying homework was unforgivable in her eyes.

It was as Ron was writing his name at the top of his parchment that he noticed something which made him stiffen. Tucked neatly between the back pages of Hermione's Potions book, poking out just enough to reveal the postal stamp, was an envelope. The postal stamp clearly read "Bulgaria." 

Hermione, who was double checking her work, picked up the book, and as she did so, the envelope fell onto the table.

"Oh, so that's where Viktor's letter was..." Ron heard the unwelcome confirmation, straight from her head. He was suddenly torn between pretending he hadn't noticed a thing to confronting her and demanding the contents of the letter. Hermione unconcernedly picked up the envelope and tucked it back into her book.

"Who's that from; Krum?" Ron blurted out. Hermione slowly looked up at him from over her book.

"Oh no." "Yes, actually."

"Anything interesting? Weather nice in Bulgaria, is it?" Ron eyed Hermione carefully as he tried, and utterly failed, to sound casual.

"Apparently." "Please not this again. I really don't need this at the moment. Don't rise to it, Hermione. Keep. Calm."

Ron searched for some words to say next. "Didn't know you were writing to each other," he came up with lamely, and hated himself immediately. He couldn't believe that a stupid letter from Krum, was actually making him do something that he knew Hermione didn't want.

"Well we are," Hermione said, her eyes back to her book but her mind elsewhere.

"Here it comes, the same old story. You would have thought, after all this time, he would have at least changed his tactics..." 

Her thoughts sounded tired and weary, though her speech was as controlled and calm as ever. "Is that a problem?" 

Ron dropped his head, eyes looking at the essay he'd just completed. He suddenly felt as weary as Hermione, and all desire to know what Krum had said to Hermione, evaporated. He also felt very guilty.

"Of course not. You know that Harry - and I...we'll support you whatever you do."

Hermione dropped her Potions book with a loud "clunk" to the floor. Her thoughts stopped. She sat absolutely still and stared at Ron, whose head was still bent over his work.

"But - but -" she finally managed weakly. "Ron - ?! He - Krum - he - oh my god. It's like - it's like some kind of strange parallel universe or something..." 

This continued in a similar vein for a few seconds, then Ron, just to escape the situation, pretended he had to go and find some books, and disappeared between the rows of tall bookshelves.

*

As Ron, having achieved next to nothing except from a wonderful Potions essay, walked back to the common room with Hermione, he realised something that made him groan. All the tables in the Great Hall had been magicked away for a reason. The Ballroom Dancing Display. Tonight.

Oh, Ron had to admit that it probably wasn't going to be as bad as it could have been. It was dress robes for boys, no tailcoats and top hats involved. And he was actually quite good at ballroom dancing, once he'd practiced a couple of times with Eloise. And it was doing something nice for somebody else. But still, it was Ballroom Dancing...

"It was nice of you to do that for Eloise, though," Hermione reminded him as she saw the grimace of Ron's face as he took in the empty hall. "She does appreciate it. She told me."

Ron nodded, and continued walking. Then he stopped, a thought having occured to him. "Hermione - do you think - that is, Eloise doesn't like me, does she?" he asked Hermione.

"No, actually she -" Hermione stopped. "She thinks you like me." "I mean, no, she doesn't. Not that way. She just thinks you're nice." "It's Harry she's head over heels for..."

Ron said nothing. Eloise thought he liked Hermione? He shook his head, and dismissed it. He'd obviously been hearing wrong.

"So, are you looking forward to tonight?" he asked Hermione.

"Yes. I mean, it'll be fun, won't it? We've never done anything like this before. And, you know, my mum and dad used to do ballroom dancing when they were young."

"And now they're dentists?" Ron said.

*

Ron grimaced at his reflectiong before he headed down to the common room, where he'd arranged to meet Hermione - he'd meet Eloise directly in the Great Hall, where it was all taking place.

He spotted Hermione waiting for him, taking advantage of the time to do yet more reading in an armchair by the fire. 

"Hi," Hermione said, when he went up to her.

"Hi," Ron returned. "Er - you look nice." 

She looked similar to the way she'd looked at the Yule Ball, actually. Her hair looked somewhat more...tamed than usual, and those were the same Dress Robes. But Ron didn't want to think about the night of the Yule Ball, which for him were connected with some unpleasant memories.

"Thanks," Hermione said. "Let's go."

"PEEVES!!" Professor McGonagall was yelling up at the mischeivous ghost, beside herself with anger as he swooped up and down the hall, pleased with himself. Peeves had at least a hundred water balloons magically floating, suspended high in the air near the ceiling of the great hall, ready to be dropped. "_I said, get down here right now!_"

"What did you say? Drop them down there? Whatever you say, Professor," Peeves cackled as he let one of the full balloons drop. In a blink, Professor McGonagall whipped out her wand, shouting "Petrificus!" and the ball stopped, frozen a few inches from the ground.

"Whooooops!" Peeves shouted as yet another and another balloon dropped. Professor McGonagall was not quick enough to stop all of them, and before long, the floor was covered in the greeny slime that had filled the balloons.

"Bubotuber pus!" Hermione hissed to Ron. The two of them were among the crowd of some of the early ballroom dancers, all watching the scene before them with either nervousness or amusement.

"Everybody stand back!" Professor McGonagall snapped. "The Bloody Baron will not be pleased about this, Peeves!!"

"Neither will Filch," Ron chuckled in a low voice to Hermione. As if on cue, Argus Filch rounded the corner, his face looking like it was about to burst like one of Peeves' balloons.

"I'm afraid that the display will have to be cancelled tonight. You are free to spend the evening as you wish, of course, but don't come near the hall until it's cleaned up," Professor McGonagall said wearily. "And that includes you, George Weasley. You don't mess with undiluted bubotuber pus, joke or not." The crowd dispersed, most of the boys looking extremely relieved, including Ron. 

"Come on, Herms," he said to Hermione, who was still stationary. "Are you okay?" he added, as he saw the distracted look on Hemrione's face (he'd been far to interested in what Peeves had been up to to notice what Hermione had been thinking)

"Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine," Hermione allowed Ron to lead her away as Professor McGonagall broke the news to some of the dancers who had just arrived. "It's just, you know, my mum and dad used to enter ballroom dancing competitions when they were young and I was kind of looking forward to tonight, because I've always wanted to try it, ever since I was really little and I saw all the photographs of them." "That'll do.Can't tell Ron that I used to lie awake imagining I was the girl in the picture, he won't understand and he's probably already thinking about Quidditch anyway. Oh well, I'll just have to fulfill that dream another time, I suppose. Just silly, really."

Ron listened, then shut his eyes and screwed up his face, because he'd known immediately what it was he should do, and the idea didn't appeal to him. But he already knew that he should do it, and that he was going to do it. He had to do it.

"Ron? Where are we going?" Hermione jerked out of her reverie as she realised that Ron was leading her away from the direction of the common room. "Ron, why are we going outside?"

Ron didn't answer her. The night air was warm and buzzing with the sound of the Faeries' dusk singing. The Faeries, harmless little flying people, glowed in the dark, making it look like the rose bushes were strewn with little lights.

"For the last time, Ron, why are we outside?" Hermione said. "And in my favourite part of the grounds come to that...not that Ron knows that. Strange co incidence, though."

Ron grinned. "Well, this isn't the Great Hall, but it's not bad is it?"

"Ron...what are you talking about?"

"I just want you to fulfill your dream, that's all."

"How did you know...?" Hermione said, in disbelief. "And why..?"

He grinned at her as he flicked his wand and performed a musical charm he'd found in "Every Single Charm Ever Recorded in the History of Magic" on the almost invisible night faeries. At once, they began to croon more musically.

"Hermione - just dance with me, okay?" Ron said, thinking that it wouldn't do to go into detail at this moment. 

"Okay," Hermione said quietly, still looking slightly shocked. She placed her hand into Ron's outstretched one, and they began to dance in comfortable silence. Ron, for his part, was concentrating on the steps too much to have been able to listen to what she was thinking anyway. But the part of his mind that wasn't going "1 - 2 - 3, 1 - 2 - 3," managed to reflect that he was actually feeling contented - _now_, of all times: here, outside at night, dancing, with Hermione. She could do that, though, Ron thought. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't felt comfortable around Hermione; he even loved her when they were in the heat of a raging argument.

Wait - what had his brain just said? 'He even loved her when...' No, it'd made a mistake. He'd meant to think, "like" of course, it had just...somehow come up with...something else.

Ron realised that they'd stopped, and as he pushed away his own confusing thoughts, Hermione's flooded in.

"I know what's going to happen. In a few seconds I'll open my big mouth and we'll end up fighting. Don't do it, Hermione. Don't ruin this moment. Please?"

"Are you warm enough?" Ron questioned, to fill the verbal silence.

Hermione ignored the question. She looked up at him. "Ron, I want you to be honest with me."

"Okay."

"No, Ron, I mean it. Tell me the truth now. Don't give me that innocent look, either. We've saved each other's lives how many times, now? Do you know how much it hurts to be lied to by the one person who's supposed to have been through everything with you?" Hermione choked slightly on the last sentence, then swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to regain her trademark composure. She'd obviously said more than she'd planned to.

"What do you mean "lied to you?" I haven't been lying to you!" Ron said, slightly heatedly staring at Hermione, looking smaller and frightened almost, yet determined, before him.

"He's such a terrible liar."

Ron shut his eyes. He inhaled. He waited. "Yes, I have." he muttered, almost under his breath, it was so quiet.

"You...you have..?" "Hang on. This isn't right. Ron just admitted he was wrong. Ron doesn't do that. Ron doesn't do that."

"Yes, well, I'm doing it now, okay?" Ron said loudly, letting go. He'd finally had enough with dealing with this on his own. "Yes, that's right, Hermione! You are absolutely right, as always: I have been keeping something from you."

Hermione said nothing, but she'd turned on that Searching look of hers on him. Ron hated that look. He always felt as though his mind was being read when she gave him that look (ironically enough). 

Wondering how long it would take before a familiar screaming match ensued, Ron took a deep breath.

"You won't like this," he said.

*


	5. five

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A/N By the way, the first part of this is set in the common room, and is like Ron going over it in his mind.

**What Witches Want - Part 05 - by Katherina Black**

"I _knew_ you were keeping something from me!" Hermione said, in a dangerous, low tone. Her eyes were sparking like the coals in the fireplace. "And I was _so_ _stupid_. I _wanted_ to believe that it was you. I thought that _you_ were changing, actually growing _up_." 

"_There was nothing I could do!" _Ron felt himself beginning to get heated as he defended himself. "Do you think that I actually enjoyed it!? It wasn't my fault!" His eyes were like cold fire. Hermione stood up, and it was all she could do to keep her voice steady and stay in control when she asked the next question.

"So what stopped you from telling me?" she said. It was poison. This was worse of all: Ron didn't know whether to shout, or beg, or tear his hair out, as he stood fixed to the spot. And he didn't know what to say.

"I don't know! You know me, I'm stupid, I mess up everything I do!" Ron tore at his hair desperately. "_I didn't know what to do!_" he finally blurted out again. "You tell me what I should have done, Hermione, because I didn't have a frigging clue!"

"You could have at least considered that maybe I didn't want somebody tuning into my thoughts like my head was some kind of radio station!" Hermione snapped. Her face was now flushed with rage, her flashing eyes flashing a danger signal.

"What was I supposed to say: 'Oh, by the way, Hermione, I can hear what you're thinking, so keep it to a minimum?' " Ron yelled back, now definitely radiating heat. He was angry at himself, and Hermione's words were sticking deep. "I wanted to tell you! But - but -" 

He kicked the small table over, muttering to himself.

"I can't believe you!" Hermione yelled. "So you just stood there, and listened, and lied to me, because after all I don't matter, do I?" She was at her very worse now, at the peak of her fraught, confused and conflicting feelings, threatening to send her off into ten different directions at once, and Hermione didn't know how much longer she could take any or all of it. 

"How could you be so thick?" she shouted at him. She wanted to yell the same thing at herself.

The words rang out clearly into the silence that followed. They stood, facing each other across the distance, varying degrees of red flushing through their faces. Hermione looked like she could grow claws any moment and do some serious damage, and Ron looked like he wanted to throw something.

Then, suddenly, Hermione looked at him and started to cry. They both stood stationary for a moment longer, then Ron took a step towards her. He hesitated, before taking another, then hesitated again, before reaching out and taking her into his arms. Hermione stiffened, then crumbled into him.

Several moments passed in absolute silence and Ron could almost feel the room cooling with Hermione's choking sobs. Then, so suddenly and so unexpectedly that Ron nearly fell to the ground, Hermione shoved him violently away.

"You git!" she was nearly screaming at him. "That Potions essay! You were listening to me, when you wrote that, weren't you?!" Hermione took another step forward and shoved him again. "You took advantage of me! You -"

Ron had to regain his balance as well his thought for a moment. Then: 

"Hermione! It's a Potions Essay! It's a flipping Potions Essay!" he yelled. This was exactly what he needed now, he thought furiously and darkly as he watched Hermione glaring daggers at him. 

"Goodnight," she said, as clearly as she could, before walking out of the room.

"Morning," Harry said, as Ron sat down next to him at the breakfast table.

"Yeah," Ron muttered. He looked at Hermione, who appeared to be reading her Daily Prophet in great detail and hadn't looked up at him yet. Then, as he watched her steadfastedly ignoring him, he frowned - something was different. He looked about him. The Great Hall was as packed and noisy as usual, but

It had gone. That blasted power had departed.

"Hi, Ron," Lavender descended into the empty seat beside him.

"Hmm," Ron said. Lavender looked from the moody, troubled Ron, to the silent Hermione, to the uncomfortable Harry. The look on her face said: "oh."

"You okay?" she asked.

"Fine," Ron replied, sounding as fine as somebody about to be cursed.

"Oh. Well, I just thought you'd like to know. I got an owl from mum this morning, and Betsey's going to be fine! The doctors are still being careful, but she's getting better already, mum says, and she's going to be okay!"

Ron managed to muster up whatever enthusisam he had left inside him as Lavender nodded happily. He knew how worried she'd been about her sister.

"Well, see you later, then," Lavender said, before standing up and returning to her seat where she proceeded to whisper something to Parvati.

Harry was looking from Ron to Hermione. "Should I not ask?" he ventured bravely. Ron said nothing. Hermione finished her pumpkin juice, folded her newspaper, and left the table without a word.

"I take it she found out, then," Harry said in a low tone.

Ron, with his head in his hands, nodded silently.

"But at least you know what she's thinking, right? Even though she's not talking to you," Harry tried to reason.

"I haven't got it anymore, Harry. The week's over." came the muffled voice.

Harry frowned. "That can't be right," he said, puzzled. "Because today's not the seventh day. It's the sixth. Unless -" He paused. "Unless you worked it out, of course," he finished, with a touch of amusement in his voice. "And proved you don't need it."

Now Ron looked up. He looked at Hermione's vacated seat, then at Harry. "There is no way that I -"

"You know what witches want," Harry said, almost laughing, almost incredulous.

*

"But you see, sir, it's impossible, because I -" Ron stopped. It seemed to him too ironic that, just when he was meant to know exactly what witches wanted, Hermione had started hating him. 

Opposite Ron, behind his desk, Dumbledore was smiling half seriously.

"Since our chat at the beginning of this week, I've been talking to Madam Pince," Dumbledore stated. "And she informs me that the library has not has a good dusting out for a while." 

"Sorry?" Ron said, looking extremely puzzled.

"Well, you see, with all those books, and rather a lot of dust, our library tends to end up with a combination of excess magic and dust settling everywhere. My theory is that some of it was absorbed into the bean just before you ate it."

"Dust?" Ron said. Dumbledore nodded. Ron thought this through, and gawked. All this had been because of some dust?

"Why me?" he said, finally. "I mean, I'm not the only one who eats sweets in the library."

"I don't have the answer to that, I'm afraid," Dumbledore said. "One might put it down as one of the great complex mysteries of life. Along with the female brain, naturally," he added, eyes twinkling behind his spectacles. 

*

"Ron? Can I have a word with you?" Ron turned to see Lavender standing before him.

"About what?" he said. Lavender turned her head, looking around the busy corridor, where students loitered and talked (it was Saturday).

"Not now - later. Can you meet me in the charms classroom, at six? I can talk to you then," Ron must have looked a bit uncertain, because Lavender added quickly, "Please. I need to talk to you about something," she said, almost desperately.

"Is it about your sister? Betsey?" Ron was concerned now.

"I'll tell you later," Lavender said, and turned away.

*

It was a long day. Ron and Hermione managed to quietly avoid each other for most of the morning, something which Ron was not very happy about. He kept remembering how she had scolded him, last year, when he and Harry had had that fight - _"How can you expect to make up if you're not talking to each other?"_ and for some reason kept mumbling this little mantra to himself under his breath.

By lunchtime, Ron had made up his mind. He would say something, _anything_ to her. Ron even got as far as the library, where he knew Hermione would be; but as he watched the familiar figure bent over the table, lost in a book, any words he'd had prepared escaped him completely, so he left. 

When six o clock came, he found himself outside the Charms classroom where Lavender had asked to meet him. She was already there, sitting within.

"Oh! Ron, thanks for coming," was all Lavender had time to say, before somebody else came through the door. Two other people, in fact: Eloise Midgen, and Hermione. 

Hermione was carrying a load of books, which she had to quickly rearrange her hold on when she saw Ron standing in front of her, a look of surprise and alarm on her face which must had mirrored his completely.

"Before you ask, it was us who set it up," Lavender said, indicating herself, Eloise, and Parvati, who had just appeared.

"Now, we're going to lock you two up until you've sorted out your differences. It's the only way you'll start talking to each other again," Eloise said.

"And don't even try any spells to break your way out of here," Parvati added. With that, the three of them stepped out of the classroom, shut the door and locked it with a key, then magic.

And they were left standing there.

In the silence, Ron and Hermione looked at each other awkwardly. "I suppose we ought to be a bit flattered," Hermione said, looking anything but flattered. "But, honestly, I never thought Eloise would - I mean, she told me she needed help with her homework."

"Yeah," Ron muttered. Hermione looked troubled as they stood in silence for a few moments longer. 

"Ron, how did we get like this?" she burst out suddenly. She put the books down on a nearby table, Ron suspected so that she could hide her face for a second. "I hate fighting with you, you know that, don't you? I've had more than enough of it to last me for the rest of my life. But I can't help it when...I just..."

"I know," Ron said, quietly. The awkwardness between them grew with the silence. Ron couldn't seem to quite find the right words to say. "Hermione - I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry for hurting you, and I'm sorry for being such an idiot, I'm sorry for pushing you about Krum, I'm sorry about everything..."

Hermione looked suprised. He took a deep breath, getting up the courage to study her face. "Over the past few days, you've forced me to do a lot of thinking," he said slowly, then looked at Hermione with an almost scared expression on his face, watching closely to see how she would react.

"_I_ forced you to?" Hermione said, in a sort of now-let-me-get-this-right tone of voice.

"Well," Ron gave out a low chuckle. "You see, there's this Hermione in my head who's always there telling me to do the right thing, a bit like a conscience, only bossier..."

Hermione had to smile as she looked at the floor - "Honestly, Ron," - Then she grew serious again. So did Ron. In the moment of uncharacteristic seriousness, it had suddenly dawned on him what all this could have cost him, and in that moment, he felt worse than he ever had before.

"Hermione, please forgive me," he said, and Hermione detected a note of desperation in his voice. "I need you to help me stop being such an idiot."

Ron thought he saw a rather strange expression pass through her eyes for a moment. Then she smiled, somewhat absently, and nodded.

"So...I'm forgiven?"

"Looks like it, you great, stupid git," Hermione smiled as Ron, full of relief, hugged her back.

"Good, because it's nearly dinner time and I swear that Parvati, Lavender and Eloise have been listening at the keyhole since we began."

*

A/N But the saga has not ended! Next part, you R/H people should watch this space. It'll probably be the last part, too.


	6. six

part6

**What Witches Want - Part 06 - by Katherina Black**

****

Later, in the Gryffindor common room, Lavender and Parvati could be seen (and heard) congratulating themselves for the part they'd played in "reuniting" Ron and Hermione. Lavender was back to her bubbly self and Ron heard her happily telling Seamus how they'd "just had to do something about it, as it's so obvious they like each other."

And though Ron hated to admit it to himself, if anything could have changed things more than they'd already been changed, this had done it. This was the second time that he'd been forced to imagine what it might like without this one bushy know-it-all in his life; the difference was, this time it would have been entirely his fault.

As if to reassure himself, Ron glanced to his right where Hermione sat, reading a novel. She sensed him looking at her and sent him a quizzical well-what-do-you-want look back, which he didn't answer. As Ron stared back down at his hands, he heard her sigh and resume reading her book.

Ron was remembering the first time he'd nearly lost Hermione. There was hardly a time when Harry wasn't in some kind of danger, but with Hermione it was...different. It had been only in their second year at Hogwarts when she'd gone and got herself Petrified by a Basilisk. And, what was worse, neither Ron or Harry had been there with her.

When he'd next seen her, Hermione had been lying there on the hospital bed, stiff and still as a plank of wood, face blank. Her eyes had been wide open and clear, unfocused, staring straight up. She looked as though her mind, beneath her skull, had stopped working. That had terrified him the most. She might as well have been dead already.

Unknown to everyone else, Ron had crept back to the hospital wing that night, unable to sleep with his mind filled with dreams of the chamber of secrets and polyjuice potions. Five minutes by her side had been enough. When Harry had proposed going into the forbidden forest the next day, he hadn't hesitated.

Ron came out of his thoughts shuddering. He then noticed that he'd just involuntarily put his arm around Hermione. And that her cheeks were pink.

*

"Stop it," Ron growled as Harry traipsed grinning into their dormitory. 

"I didn't say anything," Harry shrugged would-be-innocently, still smirking as he pulled off his socks and threw them across the dorm into his trunk.

"I know what you're thinking though..." said Ron. He was sitting bolt upright on the edge of his four-poster bed, hair sticking up where he'd run his hands through it, staring helplessly down at his collection of Chocolate frog cards. Even they couldn't distract him. When he next looked up, his face wore a rather deperate expression. 

"Harry - how did I get like this? What did - how can I - ?" Ron gave up, flopped backwards, and sent chocolate frog cards flying while muttered something which sounded remarkably like "Girls."

One of the scattered cards fluttered gently down on to Ron's face. Before his nose, the image of Albus Dumbledore twinkled and smiled at him from the photo. Instead of sweeping it away, Ron focused on the image, which was smiling knowingly at him. 

That's right, he remembered. He knew what witches wanted.

*

The next night was another warm summers evening. Ron wasn't suprised that she was sitting on her own in her favourite part of the Hogwarts grounds, by the rose bushes. Hermione was perched, hugging her knees, on the bench.

"What are you doing?" Ron plopped himself next to her. He was in an extroadinarily good mood all of a sudden. "Wait, don't answer that. Let me see...you don't have a book, so you can't be reading. In that case you must be...thinking; your second favourite hobby!" 

"Your powers of deduction are amazing," Hermione said, smiling at him slightly as she made the sarcastic comment. "But yes, you're right."

Ron noted a slightly preoccupied tone in her usually brisk voice. He frowned.

"Hermione, are you okay?"

"Hmm? Yeah, just a bit..." Hermione trailed off. "It's just been one of those days," she shrugged, trying to summon up a smile. She untucked her legs and stretched them out, yawning.

"So come on, what were you thinking about? Out with it. No secret is safe from me." The irony was lost on him until Hermione started to laugh.

"And I thought you were glad to finish with thoughts?"

"I was. Now, don't change the subject," Ron said, swiftly changing the subject and suprising himself with his brisk tone. Hermione sent him a quizzical, amused look before speaking.

"I was thinking about...mayfragons..." she said, randomly, eyeing one of the said magical insects, fluttering on a nearby leaf. Ron wasn't sure whether to believe her. "Did you know, they only have one day to live. They have to find a partner - you know, a mate - and after mating they'll die."

Ron shook his head, not quite sure what to make of it all. The two sat in silence for a bit under the darkening summer sky. The fairies were back, crooning and glowing in the bushes. Peace.

Almost.

Because suddenly Ron remembered why he was out here. Sort of. He knew that he'd been in the common room, playing chess against himself, when suddenly he'd felt an urge to go and find Hermione. But now, actually looking at her...

"Hermione, you know in second year, when you got petrified by the Basilisk?"

Hermione turned to look at him, and nodded. "Why?"

"You...really scared the hell out of me then."

Hermione paused, an unreadable expression on her face. "You've never told me that," she said, finally. He never had, had he? Ron never got sentimental about things like this. Not about Hermione.

"Well you did. I mean, I was really really worried. One of the worst days of my life, that day." And yet it had barely begun then. Ron took a deep breath. What was he getting at? "I just thought...I mean, I just wanted to tell you."

Hermione looked at him, unsure what to say. However, her eyes were glistening and that meant one thing: In a swift movement, she was hugging him. That was Hermione all over.

And then, everything came at once. All Ron's senses awoke, alive, in a second. The smell of shampoo in her hair, her black Hogwarts robes, Hermione's familiar scent of peppermint on her skin. A girl. A friend. 

"Hermione, I want to mate with you and die," Ron said.

*

Ron had never found it hard to focus on a game of chess, but tonight he was being sorely tested. Opposite, Hermione's eyes were glued on the board across which two armies, black and white, faced each other in combat. She was making those odd little noises with her tongue which she always made when thinking hard about something. 

Ron was finding them increasingly endearing. It was that same mouth which he'd found himself kissing a few hours previously; that mouth which had swiftly kissed him back, sweetly and deeply. This had all been, of course, _before_ they'd both burst out laughing in a giddy state of euphoria.

Even Ron's chessmen were being unusually quiet this evening. Well, they always were whenever he played Hermione; they knew it would always be a certain victory. Ron looked down at the chessboard, then up at Hermione, who was still making those clucking noises to herself. After some thought, he made his move (On the chessboard, that is).

"Your move," he said, looking up, eyes twinkling slightly. Ron ignored his bishop, who was half choking, half yelling at him. ("What on earth do you think you're doing? Are you blind?!")

"Right," Hermione said, contemplating what was in front of her. She moved her knight. "Checkmate."

The meaning of the word sunk in.

"Ron!" Hermione cried. "You just let me win!"

"So I did," Ron said, thoughtfully regarding at the board as if he'd only just realised it. He shrugged and grinned at her, enjoying the variety of expressions passing across her face. "Oh well, my first ever defeat might as well have been to the brightest witch of our generation, eh?"

Hermione was eyeing him suspiciously. "Ron, you didn't just let me win on purpose, did you?" she said, knowing full well that he had.

"Me? Do something so gentleman-like and unselfish? Don't be ridiculous, Hermione."

Hermione shook her head, and both their thoughts turned to the same thing as they settled down before the fire. As it was summer, and a fire was not particularly necessary, blue and purple flames flickered in the grate instead of the usual hot red.

"Hermione?" Loath as he was to break to the comfortable, anticipating silence, Ron was curious.

"Hmm?"

"A while back, we were talking, and I said that love was meant to be painful, remember?"

"Mmm," said Hermione, non-commitally.

"Well, I did. And then you said - thought, rather - that you knew a lot about that."

"Did I?" She was blushing. So she did remember.

"I was just wondering if - if anything's happened between you and Krum to make you say that? You know, has he hurt you, or something?"

Hermione didn't say anything for a moment. Then:

"Ron, I wasn't thinking of Krum then, I was thinking of you," she said quietly. 

She took a look at the shocked look on his face, sighed, then started to laugh. 

"It's always been you, Ron! Do you still not get that, even after a week of listening to my thoughts? What else do you need to do, get it in writing?"

Ron met her gaze, and put an arm around her, smiling. 

"Alright, alright, clever clogs. It was just a question."

"Anything else you want to ask me about my thoughts while we're at it?" she asked.

Ron's grin stretched wider, recalling the bits and pieces which he'd "picked up" from Hermione during that fateful week, and consequently spent the past few nights mulling over (generally during Professor Binn's lessons).

"No, I think I understand the rest of it," he said, leaning in towards her. Ron wondered what Hermione was thinking behind those smiling brown eyes, at the same time enjoying the sensation of not knowing at all.

Then he kissed her, waking all his senses once again and enjoying the electrifying sweetness that swept through him. 

Afterall, Ron didn't usually risk getting too deep into thoughts.

The End.

A/N Thanks to Zsenya for spotting my story on ff.net and putting it at sugarquill. Long live sugarquill! The mayfragon idea ("I want to mate with you and die") was based on a bit from Melissa Banks' _The Girl's Guide to Hunting and Fishing_. After hours of writing this part, it occurs to me that it may come across as slightly weird. Oh well.


End file.
